


Milk

by MrsKohakuSato



Series: Future, Past and Present [2]
Category: Gargoyles (Cartoon)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Multi, Non-Linear Narrative, Original Character(s), Parenthood, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), References to Birth, Unplanned Pregnancy, graphic depictions of childbirth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22551991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsKohakuSato/pseuds/MrsKohakuSato
Summary: Reality is stranger than fiction, they say, and he was inclined to agree. Life was indeed filled with one oddity after another.He remembers a story from his youth.A story, that was ancient he was told, passed from the old to young about a Clan Leader of their own who had taken a human as a mate.They had a child-who they called, the meaning of an end in the old language. Someone who should never have been-An abomination-The child was cursed. And because of it, she cursed the land. Cursed her clan that lamented her existence, cursed the humans who condemned her, and cursed her parents who had birthed her into a world that knew only hate and fear.They called her- Hillevi.Goliath never took the story seriously; he knew the ploy by then. The line drawn in the sand, humans stayed on one side and they stayed on the other, they were never supposed to cross it.Well, he had never been one for superstitions.
Relationships: Demona (Gargoyles)/Original Character(s), Goliath/Elisa Maza
Series: Future, Past and Present [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783693
Comments: 11
Kudos: 46





	1. The First Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Original Author's Notes: So, this turned out longer than I thought it would be. 
> 
> What does this have to do with milk, I haven’t the faintest idea, I couldn’t think of a better title, well originally it had something to do with milk, but than the whole plot derailed into something else entirely.
> 
> *Shrugs*
> 
> ALSO-
> 
> (Slaps hands on the table) Let Elisa and Goliath have their hybrid babies! If Fae people can reproduce with humans than gargoyles can have offspring with humans; I mean it can't be any stranger than anything else the series thrown at us from alternate universes, traveling through time, clones, mutates, faes, literal King mcfreakin' Authur, Macbeth being an immortal bounty hunter, magical islands, gargoyles being able to turn to stone then flesh at night, trapping actual souls into cyborgs, or the rest of the pack literally making themselves into cyborgs.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality is stranger than fiction, they say, and he was inclined to agree. Life was indeed filled with one oddity after another.  
> He remembers a story from his youth.  
> A story, that was ancient he was told, passed from the old to young about a Clan Leader of their own who had taken a human as a mate.  
> They had a child-who they called, the meaning of an end in the old language. Someone who should never have been-  
> An abomination-  
> The child was cursed. And because of it, she cursed the land. Cursed her clan that lamented her existence, cursed the humans who condemned her, and cursed her parents who had birthed her into a world that knew only hate and fear.  
> They called her- Hillevi.  
> Goliath never took the story seriously; he knew the ploy by then. The line drawn in the sand, humans stayed on one side and they stayed on the other, they were never supposed to cross it. 
> 
> Well, he had never been one for superstitions.

"Ouch!" Goliath jerked away from his thoughts, he hadn’t realized how long he'd been so absorbed in his internal musing, staring blankly at a page of his book. He blinked then blinked again unable to recall anything that he had just read before he turned to the sound of Elisa hissing in pain; her lips were pulled into a tight frown as she shoved a couple of loose strands behind her ear.

Speaking of hair her ebony locks were in much need of a decent groom, somewhere down the line it had lost its unique shine; it was frayed at the edges, tangled, and knotted into a damp mess.

"Elisa?" He leaned closer, folding the page where he had been reading or at least trying to "are you alright? Do you need anything of me?" 

"Huh?" She looks to him with furrowed brows "Oh, no...just" she shifted in her bed "Aodh bit down a little too hard" as such, she readjusted said baby, coaxing her not to clamp down so hard on her breast. The hatchling fussed not enjoying the fact that her mealtime was being disturbed. Elisa, frustrated at the thrashing, finally managed before she relaxed back into the pillows. 

Huffing "I feel like a cow" she muttered after a moment, her sleepy, tired eyes bore into the ceiling. Instead of answering immediately, his gaze fell upon their small hatchings cradled securely in her arms, nursing happily at her breasts without a care in the world. It was a curious sight, he cannot lie; decades of avoiding the rookery and anything relating to childcare left him outside his element. Elisa seemed to fall into the role of motherhood without much trouble, though he's assuming, it's barely been a week since their birth. But, he can tell that newfound motherhood was taking its toll on her, because of his stone sleep there were hours where he cannot be physically at her side. The guilt he felt was irrational, but it was frustrating all the same, along with his ignorance concerning infant care. 

In hindsight, he wished he had spent more time with his clan's hatchlings, traditionally speaking gargoyles did not take paternity of their biological children; rookery duty was expected of everyone though those such as himself and his brother Othello often neglected such responsibilities. And avoided dealing with children at every given opportunity. In their minds protecting their home came first and battling invaders was far more simplistic than raising hatchlings which came with its own complications and frustrations. That and Othello had no patience for them.

Children are a finicky bunch, they’ve always made him uneasy. Loud, hyperactive and curious to a fault; he never knew how to deal with them. Was he to be to them a benevolent father figure or did he present to them a rigid facade of a seasoned clan leader? He could not figure where to draw that line, hence he kept a distance though avoiding all interaction with the clan's hatchlings was impossible which often left him in awkward situations. He suspected that they knew and revealed in his discomfort, thus they sought him out at his expense.

But, finding and meeting Angela changed everything, challenging the very beliefs ingrained in his upbringing. His daughter stood as a living embodiment of what he and Demona shared, what they had and the love born between them. 

The love he had once thought was forever and eternal until his angel of the night dug a knife in his back. And he never saw it coming like a blind fool forcing himself to remove the rose-tinted glasses and see Demona for what she actually is. Whether she had always been that way and he overlooked the darker aspects of her character or the centuries of blood and vengeance had twisted her, he did not know, nor did he come to care. Demona made her choice, she sleeps in the bed she made.

The only thing they had between them now is Anglea and Goliath found himself mourning the fact that his daughter has to live with having Demona for a mother. At that point, the line between tradition and natural instinct became blurred, he treated her as though she was his own before he himself realized it. It was a battle fought in vain and he began to find enjoyment in being a father. And yet, it filled him with a boring sadness that he had missed much of her growth. 

He wasn't there to see her hatch, or witness her first steps or hear her first words, he lost the chance to watch her grow and develop into the strong young woman she is today. A part of him craved the experience, but by that time he had already given his heart to Elisa. Children between them was nothing more than a fantasy, a longing that would just be that-a longing.

He came to accept over time until a night of senseless sex lead to Aodh and Aila's arrival. There were no words in both English nor Gaelic that conveyed the shock of their conception, not just one hatchling but two. Two healthy gargoyle-human hybrid children born on a snowy January morning; they came into the world screaming as loud as their small lungs allowed. 

Goliath did not know what to expect, once the surprise ran its course. He wasn’t present when Demona had laid Angela’s egg, culturally speaking male gargoyles did not accompany their mates when they descend into the rookery when the time came; they were usually guided by their rookery sisters and by one of the elder female gargoyles to ensure that no complications occurred and if so it could be handled quickly and with care. By the tales told to him by his rookery sisters, the process of laying eggs was a painful one marked by horrendous, agonizing abdominal cramping and screaming. It was a wholly unpleasant affair and human birth was no different. When Elisa's water broke it was like that of a dam breaking, a flush of hot amniotic fluid that drenched her clothing. Hudson wasn’t particularly enthusiastic that it happened in his favorite chair, but he kept his complaints to himself; mainly out of fear of what Elisa might just do to him.

_ “I am literally pushing two half-gargoyle babies out of my body and your worry about a stupid chair!?” _ or at least that’s how he imagined what she might’ve said if Hudson was less astute. 

Aside from that, no amount of reading and research prepared him for the amazing phenomenon that was childbirth; he can ignore the parade of doctors and the odd machines he couldn't contain his curiosity. He knew he should be paying attention to his mate's every need, but he could not help himself having never seen a human birth up close, despite the gruesomeness of it, it was even more particularly fascinating because it was his own hatchlings being born.

When Aodh finally emerged, a full head of dark, wild curls he couldn’t contain the excitement that curled in his belly. She came into the world battling Dr. Behdi and her assistants all the way, he couldn’t help the pride that burned in him as she was settled on Elisa’s chest a small wailing bundle of blood and bodily fluids. He marveled at her tininess, her tiny hands, and tiny feet; she was so small enough so that she could and still fits perfectly in the palm of his hand. 

In spite of his joy, he loathed the fact that Dr. Behdi’s assistants had to take her, his tail flickered unhappily, but he understood it was necessary. He disliked the clinicalness of it all, but for the safety and health of his hatchlings, he bore it, even though deep inside he wished that they were being cared for and surrounded by her own clan, not by the hands of strangers.

Elisa patted his hand in comfort to assuage his wariness, knowing full-well he disapproved of it greatly. 

Aodh was cleaned, weighed, her height taken before she was placed in his arms loosely swaddled-he grimaced, she needed to have her shots to ensure she did not fall ill, he did not like the idea of his child being poked and prodded with needles, but again it was a necessary evil. Eventually, they left the clothing to him which he appreciated, however, that had been a chore in it of itself.

Aila on the other hand, came far more quietly, she screamed, balled her little eyes out, kicked and thrashed, cried until her lungs gave out, yes, but she was far less angry than her older sister, who actually attempted to bite and scratch the doctors, and quicker. She literally slipped out or as Elisa described it “it was like she was coated in butter and just-plopped right out-I didn’t even have to push” much to her relief. 18 hours of endless pain and tears ended rather unspectacularly; he had expected something else, or perhaps he was dreading the arrival of the other shoe finally dropping.

Yet, none came. 

Aila was cleaned, weighed, height taken and her shots given and clothed before she and her sister cried themselves out and were now hungry. 

Elisa had some trouble getting them to latch on properly and once again he found himself awkwardly fumbling as he hadn’t the faintest idea what to do or how to help. Unfortunately, this was another element that male gargoyles weren't privy to, they biologically speaking could not nurse newborn hatchlings so feeding was left to the females for the first few months. Most tended to stir clear when nursing time came and once more he wished he hadn't kept such a distance.

Fortunately, help did come in the form of Dr. Bedhi’s assistant. Unfortunately, it was her male assistant. Instinct told him to tear the man's arm off; reason and reality said another. His jealousy was irrational, he understood Basu was only touching her breasts, a very intimate part of her body for clinical purposes. He knew, but Elisa was still his mate, any other instance would never have been tolerated; his eyes never left the man’s backside, watching his hands, every move, every breath, waiting for any wrong move, any egregious misstep. Of course, Basu did no such thing.

For his sake.

Regardless, It took some time, but Elisa was eventually able to get Aodh and Aila to suckle without issue. Basu on the other hand, nearly broke his neck trying to backtrack out his way and his sight afterward. Elisa had chided him for it after they were left alone.

"Jeez, Big Guy, you probably had the poor guy pissing his britches" 

"I was just watching him" he answered coyly. Perhaps, a bit disgruntled. 

"More like tried to instill pure unadulterated fear in him" 

"That as well" 

"Goliath."

.

.

"You are not a cow, Elisa-mine" he placed his book on the intable.

"I am one" she whines "with all this milk literally leaking out of me I feel like a damn water fountain. Being fat doesn't help either, you might as well take me out to the barn and hook me to one of those milking machines-Ow!" 

Goliath winced along with her "Adoh?"

"No," she shakes her "Aila bit me this time" she nudged her slightly, easing her off her breast so her mouth isn't directly on her nipple, grimacing as she did "by the time this is over I'm going to have chafed nipples or none at all if they keep using me as their personal chew toy." Goliath chuckled.

"I'm glad my pain amuses you" she grumbled.

"It's nothing like that, Elisa" he edged closer, his elbows on his knees, fingers entwined "it's just the surreality of-all this" he looks at his hatchlings; sometimes they don't feel, sometimes he fears he'll wake up and realize it had all been a dream. A wonderful, cruel dream. He wanted to reach out and touch them but did not want to disrupt their feeding.

"I know what you mean" she murmurs "It feels like a dream" one of her fingers pokes Aila's cheek "and that I'll wake up" her voice has a quiet, melancholic air to it; he almost didn’t hear her if not for his sensitive hearing.

"It feels too good to be true” 

“Yeah, or” she sighs, letting her head fall back against the pillows “I feel like things are going way too smoothly, for months I kept fearing something bad might happen-and after the fact I feel as though I’m overlooking something important. But, I don’t know what. Things never go this- I guess great for us-at least not for long until some magical entity decides it wants to go on a killing spree for the hell of it” 

He doesn’t say anything in return “I mean I didn’t think it was,y’know, possible” she peers at him in mid-speech “did you?” 

“Well, there were rumors"

“Like?” 

“Of gargoyles mating with humans and producing offspring. However, they were only that mere rumors and many such tales-many of them” he looked for the word “questionable” 

"Questionable? How so?" Goliath thought back a moment, many such gossip found its way around the castle, but he did recall a particular story that one of the clan elders used to tell him and his rookery siblings over the embers of the campfire.

"There's a story I remember from my youth about a gargoyle clan leader who fell in love and mated with a human princess" 

"Really?"

"My memory of the tale is foggy at best, but their union was met with disapproval from both sides. His clan would not accept the princess as his mate, and the humans were appalled. But, they refused to be parted no matter how much ostracism they faced. Years passed and the princess was with child. His child, but the pregnancy did not last and the hatchling died in her womb. They were devastated and grieved for the child until she eventually fell pregnant once more this time the child did not die in her womb. However, their joy was short-lived, the child was born dead and far too early."

Elisa frowned as she started rocking Aodh and Aila, but he continued "another came not long after the birth of their second, he lasted full term, but was born deformed. The child was blind in both eyes, it had no wings, its feet were twisted and gnarled, so it was unable to walk, he had only one arm and they're gender was indistinguishable. Nonetheless, they loved their child all the same until he succumbed to his deformities, only living long enough to see a few harvests. After awhile the clan leader and the princess believed that they would never be able to have offspring and soon gave up on the pursuit until a couple of years later she brought to term a healthy, half gargoyle-half human hatchling. They were overjoyed and adored the child more than life itself."

"I get the feeling this story isn't going to have a happy ending"

"No, it does not." He murmurs "yet, their joy, predictable was short-lived, though their child was healthy and strong he was-how do say detached. And despite the love his parents gave him unconditionally, he was not well-received by his clan nor the humans, often she pelted with stones, spit upon by the guards of the castle, and shunned from both her people. They called her by many names, those included 'Abomination' or and 'egregious affront towards nature'.

Eventually, or predictably the child grew bitter, furthering her detachment to the world until it boiled over into bloodshed. They said she was mad, she burnt everything clan, humans everything within her reach to ash and embers. Her father, the clan leader was forced to stop her, the battle ended with him taking her life thus ending her reign of chaos.

The clan leader and his human mate were never the same afterward and were ultimately chased away from the castle, everyone believed their love was unnatural, and only worsen their transgressions by creating something that should not be, their child defied nature thus she was born mad. The couple never returned and were never seen again." 

"Well, that was horrifyingly depressing" 

"I'm sorry I suppose I got a little carried away" he returns his gaze to her arms to find his hatchlings had finished their feeding and were fighting between sleep and consciousness. Their tails managed to wrap themselves around Elisa's arms and wrist.

"Was it true?" She can't help but ask.

"I haven't the faintest idea, the elders told us that the story was a true one that involved our clan and clan leader of many generations past." 

"Seriously?" 

"So they say, I have no proof that was the case" 

Elisa mulled it over for a brief minute"Perhaps we’re living proof that it was, maybe not the whole truth, but part of one" she runs a hand over the twins' hair wistfully. Aila yawns, rubbing her tiny fists against her face.

"Perhaps…" he trailed off momentarily, his mind losing itself in a thread of memories; he wondered, if they had lived, how his elders might've reacted? He, after all, had broken many such traditions: taking paternity of his own hatchlings and mating with a human for one. 

He did not elaborate to Elisa the true intentions of that story, regardless of whether or not it actually happened, it was meant to deter interbreeding with humans. 

Even during his youth, he was well aware of the line drawn in the sand. Though his clan and humans lived side by side for centuries, fraternizing was looked down upon, you stay there, and we over here. It did not help the already strained relations between humans and gargoyles, but it was simply how things were, how things must be. Stupid he knew, but the growing malice only furthered the divide, especially after Prince Malcolm’s death and when the mantle of clan leader had passed to him. The gap was far too wide for him to try and mend burnt bridges. It did not help matters when everyone kept trying to relight the flames, he all but gave up after his attempts reaped nothing but consternation from both sides..

What would they think now he wondered? Probably nothing good he surmised thoughtfully, after going against most of their teachings…. his eyes flickered over to his mate and children; Elisa was drifting off along with Aodh and Aila, her nightgown was pooled around her waist when she had shoved it down to nurse the twins unhindered. Some milk was leaking from her breasts, in her sleep-deprived state she hardly paid any mind to it.

"Elisa?"

"Mh, huh?" She yawns.

"You're falling asleep" she rubs her eyes, or tries to with two babies in her arms, she has to lean at an awkward angle to reach her eyes.

"I think it's time you slept yourself" 

Elisa yawns again "I know, but they need to be burped unless you want them to wake up colicky" he grimaced at the thought, she sat up with some effort "can you pass me one of those towels over there?" He did as commanded bringing her the white cloth to drape over her shoulder "here hold, Aila" the child fussed as she was being removed from her mother's warmth and gently placed in his arms.

"Shhh" he shushed and rocked her "everything's alright daughter" he murmured to his third-born, as rubbed her backside in neat small circles. It had an effect one way or another soothing her to a low gurgle.

Elisa tended to Aodh draping the infant over her toweled shoulder, carefully maneuvering her wings so they don't accidentally snag on anything and patted her backside in slow tender motions "y'know" she started "there's something about your story that I thought was odd"

"What is that?" 

"When you spoke of the child you kept changing their pronouns, first it was a boy than a girl."

"Ah" he answered, "it is because the sex of the child was never stated, it varied depending on who was telling the story." 

"You were pretty adamant about the kid being a girl" Goliath shrugged halfheartedly, he didn't really have an answer for it.

"I do not know, I was simply assuming" he sighed "or thinking upon it now, the child at the end of the story reminded me of-" he hesitates.

"Demona." She finished.

"....yes…" Elisa made a noise in the back of her throat, the similarities weren't lost on her.

"What did she think of it, the story I mean?" 

"She always hated it actually" he forced away certain memories that threaten to rise to the surface, he actively buried and shoved them far away “she had always told me that the clan leader of the story was foolish for choosing a human mate. In retrospect the foreshadowing is unbearably eerie.” far too ominous for his liking.

Elisa opened her mouth to say something, but Aodh belching interrupted her train of that "all finished?" She gave the babe another tap on the back before they exchanged hatchlings, and Elisa repeated the same action. Exhausted, the girls were quick to fall asleep once tucked away in their bassinet.

"Elisa?" He calls to her softly.

"Mhmm...yeah….?" 

"You are falling asleep." 

Her eyes flutter ".....yeah…."

"You need to rest, now" he reaches over to help her arms back through the straps of her nightgown and tucks her back into the warmth of the weighted blanket curtsey of her Diane.

"..have patrol later" 

"Yes, but I won't be away for long. I'll be back before you wake" no response, Elisa was dead to the night. A small smile touches his lips, utterly enthralled by the woman slumbering before him. Brushing a gentle hand over her cheek he savors the warmth of her skin, he doesn’t want to leave, but he must, duty calls.

“Father….” Angela’s soft voice broke his quiet musings, he looked over his shoulder to see her slip through the crack of the open door, shutting it silently behind her.

"Daughter" he remembers to keep his voice low.

"I can watch Elisa and my baby sisters while you go on patrol" Elisa's situation was still delicate. With no prior knowledge about interspecies children or pregnancy, they were left in a rather touch position. Dr. Behdi and her assistants kept a constant rotation of check-ins, keeping a close eye on their vitals, and the twins' development. And making sure Elisa did not hemorrhage, the birth had torn her below and needed stitching. 

She was immediately condemned to bedrest, no walking or moving around indefinitely, Elisa was much too exhausted to argue and didn't put up much of a fight. When she wasn't nursing or caring for their hatchlings she was sleeping. Everyone, per tradition, helped in every way manageable. Broadway brought her meals, Angela adored her new siblings enough to not be asked. Desdemona took turns with Katana to tend to Elisa hygienic needs, helping her bathe and keep clean and supplied her with fresh blankets and sheets.

Hudson often kept her company and Bronx usually napped at her bedside. Lexington and Brooklyn kept her updated on everyday happenings along with Bluestone. Even Othello, begrudgingly, aided in assisting Elisa with the twins. The only one who did not contribute was Iago and he was concern in it of itself for another day, but besides the point, it filled him with elation that not all his people's ways were fading. 

They were still a clan, a unit, a family even if some of their traditions do not live on, adopting a few new ones did not seem so bad in retrospect of what he has gained so far.

He gave Elisa, Aodh, and Aila a long look before standing to full height "I shouldn't be too long tonight" Angela skimped past him to take his seat and smiled adoringly at her baby siblings snoring away in their bassinet before turning to him with a graver countenance "Uh- father" 

"Yes, Angela?" Noting the change in tone, her wings fluttered before dipping low.

"I-" she sighed "its-I tell you later, you better get going, Brooklyn's waiting for you" He wanted to ask what was bothering out of the blue but surmised that she wasn't going to tell him anything at the moment having made up her mind.

If anything Angela rivaled him in stubbornness.

He sighed "very well" 


	2. Chapter 2

“I thought I was going to die!” Basu shrieked. Since his shift ended his hands and arms refused to stop shaking, the weight of Goliath’s predator-like gaze never left, like a thorn shoved under his skin. And no amount of hard liquor was numbing the lingering terror causing his heart to ram against his chest. His sister, bordering intoxication, only laughed in the face of his misery. 

“You should've seen the look on your face! It was hilarious!” Amara slammed the bar table in glee. 

“It’s not funny!” 

“It is!” 

“One wrong move and my head was going to be on that floor” he cried “my life flashed before my very eyes” he heaved “I don’t get that woman how can she deal with-with” he tried to think of a less derogatory way to describe her husban-ah-um-mate, but towering behemoth of animalistic strength was the only thing that came to mind “that.” he finished awkwardly.

Amara’s chin fell into her open palm “guess she’s used to it” 

“I don’t think I can ever get used to them” he motioned for the bartender to refill his drink.

“Oh, suck it up!” his sister nudges his ribs with her elbow “we’re getting paid big bucks for this! If it helps, look at it as an opportunity of a lifetime" 

"Being threatened by a 7ft giant is hardly on my list of opportunities" he sighs rubbing his forehead.

"He was just making sure you didn't cop a feel" 

"As if" he muttered "what kind of man does he take me for anyways" he was just trying to do his job to aid Ms-Mrs.Maza that’s all he was doing, he could’ve sworn he heard Goliath growling behind him. He tried not to run once he was finished, but his flight or fight response had already kicked into gear and out the door, he flew tripping over himself as he went; nearly careened into the opposing wall, but stopped just short of breaking his nose.

Amara shrugged, unhelpful as usual.

"Dammit" he mutters "if this ends with me being eaten, My blood is on your hands" 

"So, dramatic" 

"Bite me." 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past has an awful habit of sticking to the present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know people might get on me for writing Goliath kind of being super bitter in this, but like, to me at least, I think Goliath's well within his right to feel a whole bunch of resentment. Sometimes, I do feel like he gets written to be a tad bit forgiving, especially towards those that royally screwed him over big time. And let's not excuse all the horrid freaking trauma Goliath went through from being a survivor of genocide, to be betrayed twice by those he trusted, being used and disregarded, I'm pretty sure he's suffering from serious Survivor's guilt and major PTSD.

"What is all this?" Goliath returned home from the frigid cold, exhaustion ringing through his every bone. Though he could not resist his stone sleep, his mind was always ill at ease these days; he might as well not have slept at all.

Castaway's sudden silence had him on edge. 

Accompanied, by the birth of his children he found it hard to let his guard down especially, now when Elisa was at her most vulnerable.

All he wanted after a long patrol was a quiet evening, but as always life was not keen on giving him any peace of mind. He came home to find the living area a mess of boxes decorated in a multitude of colored paper. There were other such items, eloquently white plastic bags stuffed with pale parchment and weaved baskets filled to the brim with various goods reeking of pungent spices and herbs.

He stopped and looked around.

"What the hell is all this?" Brooklyn commented, gazing around the room with his one good eye. 

Angela paraded up to them, being the only one among the room. Nervously placing her hands in front of herself "they're gifts father. From mother"

"What!?" Brooklyn squawked in disbelief.

"Here" she shifted through one of the baskets to

produce a small, thin card which she offered to her father. It was sleek, white and simple-

He took it, gently, with apprehension, the material was smooth against the pad of his fingers.

In bold, eloquent lettering it read:

**_~Goliath & Elisa Maza Congratulations~_ **

His jaw ticked, but he held his tongue in front of his daughter noting the anxious twitch of her tail and wings.

"I see" he replied slowly, passing it back to her "is this all?" 

"I believe so," she answered cautiously "if-if you don't feel comfortable accepting the gifts, father we can always give them back-" 

"No" he shakes his head "I am-" he bit his tongue "fine. Besides, Demona seems to have gone out of her way to make amends. The least we can do is accept her generosity at face value" he did not know at this point whether he was trying to convince himself or his daughter and second in command. Angela didn't quite smile, or at least it didn't quite meet her eyes as she accepted his trite response. Brooklyn simply huffed but said nothing beyond that.

"How is Elisa?" He wanted to divert the topic for a moment.

"Still dead to the wind, but her parents are here. I think they plan to stay the night. Diane's with Elisa now and Peter's in the kitchen with Broadway." Ah, right Elisa did mention her parents wanting to stay at the castle for a while. 

How had he forgotten? 

No matter, he mentally chides himself.

"Hrm, I suppose we should sort through-Demona's gifts then" His daughter nodded excitedly, unable to contain her curiosity. 

Brooklyn was also slightly interested and started warily prodding through the weaved baskets.

They spent the next thirty minutes or so shifting through all the boxes; somehow his former-mate managed to find someone to tailor clothing for infants with extra appendages. The material was soft under his talons; the attire she bought was nothing quite feminine nor quite masculine laying somewhere firmly between the two. Much to his chagrin, he had to admit that they were lovely, sewn-in cool colors of light blues and greens. 

And despite plushness of the baby clothes, Demona did take into consideration the sturdiness of the fabric, strong enough withstand the sharpness of small talons. 

She also sent stuffed animals, quilted blankets,

fresh baby towels, soaps, and oils designed specifically for a baby's delicate skin and handcrafted wooden combs and brushes tailored to tackle the thickest of gargoyle hair.

The generosity of it all baffled him. 

Hr felt as though he were gaslighted.

Demona went above and beyond something he thought she had lost long ago; then again she was never one to do things halfway. Which in itself was never good in hindsight. 

But, there must be something he's overlooking; 

why now would she care enough to send gifts, 

In lieu of her unpleasant reaction to the news of Elisa's pregnancy- 

_ He heeded her carefully, her sharp features twisting in utter disbelief. For a long while not a world left them under the weight of the cool autumn evening. Goliath noticed the twitch in her jawline, the fidget of her talons before her face relaxed into a mixture of contempt and what he believes is disgust.  _

_ He is not the least bit surprised. _

_ She sneered up at him “So, you managed to impregnate your human pet? How quaint.” she spat venom. _

_ “What of it?” he retorted coolly. He was not deterred by her malice, he was not ashamed; not of taking Elisa as his mate nor being blessed with the opportunity to have children with her, something which he so longed for.  _

_ He will not let Demona trample upon his newfound happiness, not when she had tried so hard in the past to render him cold and hopeless.  _

_ She snorted at him deviously “you taint our clan’s blood by breeding with filth! Have you any shame!?”  _

_ It took every ounce of self-discipline not to wring her neck “do not talk to me about blood when that our clan’s is coated on your very hands!”  _

_Her wings flared, her red lips peeling_ _back to_ _reveal her fangs_ ** _“HOW dare you!”_**

_ “How dare I? How dare you!? You're the very reason why our numbers are so few, you're the reason why our brothers and sisters are dead! _ **_You're the one who betrayed us! And still, you refuse to take any responsibility for what you’ve done! Do not speak to me about honor, when you are a coward who hides behind their own self-pity!”_ **

**_“And you're a bloody fool! Still believing, still hoping that humanity will accept us, they didn't in the past and they won't now! Or ever! What makes you think any of them will change!? You see for yourself every day what human “gratitude” entails! And what happens when they find out, Goliath? You’re not honestly expecting that if we’re exposed that they’ll tolerate your relationship with that woman!?_ ** _ She stopped  _ **_"Oh!” she laughed bitterly “how completely and utterly foolish, and stupid! They won’t accept either of you or your mongrel brats! They’d sooner burn you alive! Humans have killed, maimed and murdered for far less”_ **

_ Goliath felt his patience quickly evaporating, his muscles tightened in restraint, not because Demona is wrong, but she is somewhat right. Human prejudice and cruelty are boundless and unchanging. He knows full well what being exposed entails, and he dreads it every day with madmen like Castaway simpering in the shadows.  _

_ But- _

_ “Mother! Father! Please! “ Angela blurted. He had completely forgotten about their daughter in his anger, she came darting between them with her wings spread apart. Anyone else Demona would’ve mowed through without a single thought, but she froze, pressing her lips together as the young woman nudged her away from him. _

_ “I was merely stating a truth, daughter”  _

_ “You were being cruel, Mother! Elisa isn’t father’s pet and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call my unborn siblings mongrels!” Demona's tail twitched, but her sneer faltered. _

_ "Of course, you'd be enthusiastic about this…" she mutters. _

_ "Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?!" _

_ "Your father leads you astray" she whispers. _

_ "Mother."  _

_ "Fine. Celebrate all you want, I care not, and that's not if anything unfortunate happens"  _

_ "Mother!" Demona sniffed at them before taking to the skies "Mother!?" His daughter called after her, her wings quivered in anger. _

_ "Leave her, Angela"  _

_ "How can she-" _

_ "Truce or not her own prejudices aren't going to go away any time soon"  _

_ Angela whips around "That still doesn't give her the right to be so mean!" He sighs, he wasn't exactly expecting a positive response from his ex-mate, not that he genuinely cared what she thought, he was beyond that at this point. But, he was holding his breath for something much worse, but her reaction was rather subdued.  _

He was expecting her to do something unsightly, but with the gifts, he supposed she wasn't in a rush to disrupt their stalemate. 

Demona walked a thin line with her birth clan. No one trusted her, he did not trust her, he didn't think he could ever trust her again after everything she's done. 

She was his mate, his love, his angel.

Yet, his love for her wasn't enough to stop her from driving a knife in his back. From attempting to blow a hole through his chest, for throwing his love back at him only to laugh in his face. He experienced her cruelty firsthand and never wanted to grant her a second chance, it was harsh, vindictive- 

And Goliath's surprised by his own bitterness. But, he had tried and failed to appeal to her, begged and pleaded with that woman so many times he lost count. He was tired, so tired of fighting with her.

It was only by Angela and Desdemona's insistence that he allowed the truce, promising that they'll deal with her so he didn't have to. He agreed only in that case that they remain careful and vigilant around her.

So far nothing's blown up in his face.

So far.

"This is a lot of fancy stuff," Brooklyn remarked "stuff must of cost a fortune"

"I suppose having a multi-million dollar company might have something to do with it" Angela retorted "but, it was kind of her"

"Assumingly, anyways" His daughter sighs clutching one of the stuffed animals to her chest.

"I'd like to give her the benefit of the doubt…." 

"Wouldn't we all…." Brooklyn rumbles under his breath.

"Father?" Angela ignored his second in command in lieu of turning to him her expression marred with restrained concern. 

Goliath scowled his previously elated mood dwindling "Like I said before if Demona is willing to change her ways for the better then we can meet her halfway and accept her gifts at face value" Brooklyn casted him a glance obviously wanting to say more, but watched as his gaze filtered over to Angela and shook his head. 

"Whatever you say, you're the boss here" 

"W-we should probably put this all in the nursery." 

"I'm going to go check on Katana" Brooklyn mumbles stalking off into the hall leaving behind the tense atmosphere.

Angela fell quiet, as she and her father sorted and disturbed the gifts into the nursery and placed the towels, oils, and soaps into his and Elisa's bathroom. Goliath refused to say a word, his mind had drifted beyond the task at hand.

Angela fidgeted under the weight of her father's silence, as they made way to the kitchen to store the baskets. She did not want to prod, but he was obviously upset, yet she had no way of knowing what to do to comfort him.

_ Oh, what am I to do? _

How did one deal with two parents that no longer loved one another; not quite friends, not quite enemies either. 

She didn't grow up with Goliath and Demona in her life, she didn't know what their relationship was like then and never will. Her father seldom spoke of their time together and her mother preferred to be vague about it. She had the option to ask the others, but it felt a lot like being nosey. If her father and mother did not wish to speak about their relationship she didn't think it was right to go prying behind their backs.

So, that left her stuck between two hard places unsure which route to take, or what to do. Which can be said with her own relationship with her mother. As much as Angela wants to rekindle her relationship with her, she cannot deny or excuse the damage her mother had inflicted upon her father. As much as she believes that there is still good in her, she still wants to protect her father's heart. 

Her Mother is, after all, rather cruel both intentionally and unintentionally; she knows how to hurt and hurt very well and that's what frightens her. If she's not careful, her mother will lash out. 

It's the very reason her father wasn't comfortable about her weekly visits to her mother's estate alone, but he did not stop her, even encouraging her to continue _ "what happened between me and Demona, daughter, has nothing to do with you. If in your heart you desire to be close to her I will not stop you"  _

But, her father is wrong, what happened between him and mother does affect her! 

She cares about their happiness, she wants them both to be happy. Not that her father hasn't been joyous, but she can see that many things weigh heavily on his heart. Everyone knew, but her father was stubborn, in his words,  _ he will not be coddled like a hatchling. _

That man can be so ungodly bullheaded. And frustrating, it irritated her to no end. However, it only made her glad Elisa was here, she was the only one capable, aside from Hudson, of blowing down his thick walls and smacking some sense into his head without repercussions. 

Honestly, Angela wished she had a bit of Elisa's gumption. It would make speaking to her father a whole lot easier-

"What's that smell?" She blurted out loud.

Something strong hit her nostrils, as they entered the kitchen. The harsh, spicy scent of jalapenos filled the room, along with the eye-watering smell of onions and green peppers. Peter was at the sink washing rice while her mate was busy chopping vegetables. Both men were completely enraptured in their craft and didn't hear them walk in.

A few pots and pans were shimmering on the stove sizzling and popping "Good evening, Peter" 

Her-um-step-grandfather jumped, snapping around slightly startled by the sudden intrusion "oh, Goliath! Didn't hear you come in" the conversation caught Broadway's attention.

"What's with all the baskets?" He asked her without a break in his actions.

"Their gifts from mother" 

"Demona sent this, our Demona!" The admittance halted his movements his eyes grazing over all the oak weaved baskets as she and her father placed them on the vacant stainless steel tables.

"Yes." Angela nods "so, what are you guys making" she can't help, but ask.

"It's called um- what's it called again?" Broadway asked over his shoulder.

"My famous jambalaya" 

"Yeah, that!" He nods.

"It smells good! I can't wait to try some!" 

"So, your ex-wi-mate sent these?" Peter placed the bowl of clean rice on the counter, eyeing the baskets with curiosity "what's in them?" 

"Yes." Her father says coolly, "foods mostly. Meats, cheese, teas, spices, herbs, pastries." 

"Really?" Broadway started rummaging through the baskets, fishing through the various goods "wow, this all the really good stuff, too!" 

"Speaking of goods, Diane's brought over some of her homemade apple pie she baked the other night" 

"Perhaps it'll help lighten Elisa's mood" 

"She was asleep when I came in. Poor girl looks like a trainwreck." Peter tugged on sleeves of his sweater, rolling the fabric back up his arms.

"It's been a rather long week for her and the twins. It'll still be some time before she's on her feet again, but recovery's been taking its toll on her." 

Peter nodded "I know. Dr. Behdi came in just as we arrived and gave us the rundown. Childbirth is one hell of a deal. I don't know how they do it." 

Angela quietly shuddered. As much as she one day looked forward to having hatchlings of her own one day, she, however, did not look forward to the pain it brought. Desdemona told her how her own egg got stuck in her birth canal and had to be manually removed. 

She passed out twice from the agony alone and broke some poor healer's hand by accident. 

Katana was far worse, she had two eggs instead of one. And nearly hemorrhaged to death because her own eggs tore her.

While, Fox didn't suffer the same problems she too detailed the gruesome, grueling ordeal of childbirth and how the pain was enough cause her to vomit several times.

Elisa probably had it worse by human standards having to push out not one, but two babies with extra appendages. Angela was no expert in human biology but she can come to the conclusion that the human body wasn't designed specifically to force out winged offspring.

"Are you sure she didn't like poison anything?"

"Huh!?" Broadway snatched her away from her thoughts "what?"

"Are you sure she didn't poison anything?" he repeats.

"Broadway." Angela admonished.

"Hey, I'm just asking" he placed his hands up in surrender "you know how unpleasant your mother is-and vindictive." He muttered the last part under his breath "Honestly, I didn't think she'd care enough to send gifts or y'know do anything nice"

He was right to be suspicious, of course, but she doubts that her mother poisoned anything. Demona's far too hands-on, if she wanted to kill someone she was more likely to do it in person. 

"Me too…." Angela agreed solemnly. She can't blame her mother too much, not the prejudice part, but, her eyes glided over to the weaved baskets, as much as her mother wishes to deny it she believes wholly that Demona still loves her father. Those feelings just don't go away, her gaze flickers over to Broadway and she smiles-

those feelings just don't get up and walk away.

Or vanish without a trace.

Her parents were together a long time and before that friends and rookery siblings longer; she can assume, take the few pieces she has and place them together to see the bigger picture.

They loved each other once. Unfortunately, that said love was not strong enough to withstand time, it snapped like a rusted chain withering into bitterness and anger and sorrow. 

Her mother was hurting, seeing him together with Elisa, seeing him make a new family with her- 

Angela can only imagine what it must feel like. She tried to imagine Broadway with another, even in theory it was like some shot her through the chest. Yet, she can only sympathize so much as her mother was the one who drew the wedge between them, she put the dagger in her father's back and expected him not to retaliate. 

Briefly, she wondered if it was wrong that she wanted her mother to move forward and focus on healing herself. She felt unsure whether or not to tell that to her clan who remained angered and wary of her newfound presence; finding her too close for comfort, aside from Desdemona. 

Technically her mother is in exile, not officially speaking. Hudson had told her there was usually a formal ceremony concerning banishment, often trial where the accused would plead their case before the elders of the clan who decided whether their actions were justified or not.

But, you can't have a trial if all the jurors are dead. Especially, when the accused was indirectly at fault for their demise. Nonetheless, her mother has neither expressed any desire to rejoin their clan. Or otherwise.

If she did, Angela doubts that she'll be welcomed back.

And If she did rejoin, she can only imagine the chaos that it would bring as her mother's place in the clan has been taken. Brooklyn now holds her status as second in command and Elisa as her father's mate. Angela can't see her mother taking that very well. Or living with the fact that a human holds a higher rank than she does. It'll drive her up the walls, then there will really be no end to her ranting and raving.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for All the kudos and comments, bookmarks so far! 
> 
> And THANK YOU FOR READING!
> 
> {Reviews, Comments, Criticisms are much appreciated!}

**Author's Note:**

> ~A HUGE thanks for reading!~
> 
> So what did you guys think? Reviews, Comments, Criticisms?


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